See you in – or rather, ‘at’ – Cefalù, as they say in Milan. A modest proposal for Madame Lavitola

In the interview with Lavitola’s Italian-Argentine partner, Mrs Natàlia Potenza, a remarkable portrait emerges of the Italian male and Mediterranean patriarchy: a passion for big-game hunting, two parallel families – in addition to his official one with her, there’s the one with a Brazilian beautician – and then his wild friendships, his materialism (the poor Italian-Argentine woman says she took him into her home as ‘a third child in addition to the two we have’), and exotic locations.

Lavitola is like a character (one? At least a dozen) from Alberto Sordi’s films, but here specifically the sort of “Bello onesto emigrato…” (“I met Valter when he was on the run in Buenos Aires and fell in love with him straight away; I even sold two houses over there to help him”), and yet the article in the Corriere also reveals a brilliant business idea.  

With the help of Fulvio Abbate, a writer and family friend, who suggests to her: “Cefalù has become a brand now, think about it carefully, Natàlia”. Because she’d like to change the name of her restaurant. Understandable, of course, because she wants to start afresh, and her partner can’t stand the sight of him anymore. Yet the name ‘Cefalù’ must remain; indeed, it must be multiplied. A chain of Cefalùs. One, ten, a hundred, a thousand Cefalùs!

However, a preliminary observation is in order: the restaurant industry is undergoing a significant shift, a return to traditional cuisine; Michelin-starred chefs have become tiresome with their experiments and spherifications. Instead, Da Vittorio is triumphing with its paccheri with three types of tomato, and La Langosteria with its large fish dishes, just like in the 1980s. Cefalù Bistrò, in fact, is an established brand; it has been the talk of the town all summer and requires no advertising.

In short, it’s self-explanatory: if I were Mrs Natàlia Potenza, forget about changing the name – I’d register the trademark, if she hasn’t already done so – and as well as running the restaurant in Via dei Quattro Venti, which, as she says, is always full, I’d be thinking about rapid expansion. First and foremost, an outpost in Milan, where they’re mad about Roman cuisine (there’s already Felice in Testaccio, Il Bolognese and others) and all things Roman.

I would also like to suggest a potential investor: Remo Ruffini, the entrepreneur who revived the Moncler down jacket and who is a shareholder in the aforementioned Da Vittorio and Langosteria. I will even go so far as to imagine a menu: apart from the obvious vongole à la Mieli (thoroughly shelled), other simple yet flavourful dishes from our Mediterranean diet could also be introduced: ‘intercettati’ with three types of tomato; ancient-grain gabanelli; and, to add a touch of the exotic and also to celebrate Mrs Natàlia’s Argentine heritage, Sigfrido-style empanadas. For a vegetarian option, kamut ‘innocenzi’. Also perfect for a light meal, ideal for business lunches, are the fragrant Tavares, naturally high in protein and gluten-free.

In Milan, trends can emerge overnight; one can almost hear the typical remark: “You know, I practice intermittent fasting, then at midday after my workout I enjoy a Tavares and then join a call.” For dessert, of course, the ‘Bomba d’amore’, for those who can; there is even a lactose-free version, and to round things off, the Ranucci with vin santo, on the house. A coffee and one is ready to go. There is no question of changing the name. Ms Natàlia, please consider this. We will meet at—or rather, ‘in’—Cefalù, as they say in Milan.